


Storm Chasers

by Writcraft



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Auror Tonks, Bisexual Tonks, Cunnilingus, F/F, Fingering, First Kiss, First Time, Gender Identity, Getting Together, Nonbinary Tonks, Past Ginny/Harry - Freeform, Past Tonks/Remus, Post-Hogwarts, Post-War, Queer Themes, Questioning Ginny, Quidditch Player Ginny Weasley, Remus Lupin Lives, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-13
Updated: 2020-02-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:35:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22686328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writcraft/pseuds/Writcraft
Summary: It starts, as these things often do, with hummus.
Relationships: Nymphadora Tonks/Ginny Weasley
Comments: 26
Kudos: 127
Collections: Femslash February





	Storm Chasers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [icarusinflight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/icarusinflight/gifts).



> Wishing you the happiest of birthdays Le, I hope you like this little gift! Thank you to darling [gracerene](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gracerene/pseuds/gracerene) for such a speedy and thorough beta, you're the best.
> 
> For the purposes of this verse both Remus and Tonks survived the war but they never married or had Teddy.

She imagines this is what it must feel like to tumble off a broom and discover you have wings.

Her fingers curl around the sheets, two tentative arms outstretched. She imagines the flex of feathers and then the jubilant swoop towards the red evening’s hazy sunbeams as the realisation dawns: _it’s easy to fly_.

Ginny’s been chasing sunbeams all her life. She’s pushed her broom on and up and forward, even when some days are like beating frantic wings against a window, never getting anywhere at all. At other times an unexpected storm takes her by surprise; feverish gusts of wind propelling her onwards into the kind of weather not even a strong flier like Ginny can tame.

On those occasions she grits her teeth and sinks into the squall, breathing in stormy air and letting the rain and hail batter against her icy skin. She twists her broom into a spiral and yells “I’m alive, dickheads!” The storms always make her heart sing out a hearty _fuck you_ to all the people who filled Hogwarts with pain and shadows during the last year of the war. The courage it takes to chase storms instead of flying away is the kind of brave Ginny’s used to being. She never imagined a kiss could need the same kind of courage or that giving into her desires would feel as bold as diving down towards the swirling Atlantic Ocean, letting the toes of her boots and her gloved hands skim the frothy waves.

Despite all the euphoric highs that come with flying, this is completely different.

This is _everything_.

*

It starts, as these things often do, with hummus.

Ginny pulls her jacket around her body and walks quickly into the local Muggle supermarket, trying not to glare at the people standing around in the doorway, chatting about the weather. It’s not their fault Ginny’s cupboards are empty, save for a mouldy jar of blackcurrant jam and an out-of-date Pot Noodle. She’s just not in the mood for people. She spends her days surrounded by a chatty, boisterous Quidditch team, and her evenings are often spent in late night bars or cosy pubs with friends. She’s been excited about a few days to herself ever since her holiday was approved. She even told her brothers and parents she was off to the Cotswolds in case they decided to show up on her doorstep uninvited with a well-meaning lasagna.

Ginny’s starting to regret her decision to keep everyone at bay. Charlie brings beers when he comes to visit and Percy always has some of those brilliant sausage rolls Audrey makes. If her mum and dad had turned up uninvited, at least she wouldn’t have needed to shop again for a month. As it is, she has to wait impatiently in the queue at Tesco’s, clutching crisps, teabags, hummus and a pizza for dinner. At least Howl has plenty of food. She grumpily yanked on her trainers, muttering _glad you’re alright_ as Howl tucked into his treats before she left the house. A slow curl of his tail and a disdainful mewl was his only reply.

After a brief to-do with the cashier over a rogue Sickle that must have got muddled up with Ginny’s Muggle money, she’s finally able to leave the supermarket with everything she needs for a quiet day at home.

“Bloody hummus.” Ginny begins her walk home, stopped in her tracks when a familiar voice calls her name.

“Wotcha, Ginny!” Tonks grins as Ginny turns to face her. “What did hummus ever do to you?”

“I had to leave the house to get snacks.” Ginny holds up the shopping bag and meets Tonks’ amused gaze with a smile of her own. “I’ve got the day off and you can’t watch films without snacks.”

“Absolutely not,” Tonks agrees cheerfully. She tips her head, contemplating Ginny thoughtfully. “It’s been a while.”

“A few months at least,” Ginny replies. Considering she didn’t want to see anyone today, bumping into Tonks is unexpectedly welcome. A warm rush of excitement catches her off-guard, leaving her suddenly self-conscious. “I haven’t seen you since Harry’s birthday bash. How’ve you been?”

“Awful.” Tonks pulls a face and pushes a hand through her short hair. It’s deep purple, with hints of bright blue. She doesn’t look awful. She looks brilliant. “My girlfriend dumped me a month ago after one too many late nights at the Ministry _and_ she buggered off with my favourite Weird Sisters t-shirt. I’ve had it so long it’s practically vintage. There’s no getting that back.”

Ginny swallows, trying not to look surprised. Come to think of it there had been a pretty witch that had stayed close to Tonks for most of Harry’s party. Ginny only got to chat to her briefly and had assumed they were just friends. 

“I didn’t know you were—” Ginny stops. She’s not entirely sure it’s polite to draw attention to the casual way Tonks says _my girlfriend_ as if it’s the easiest thing in the world. “Because of Professor Lupin,” Ginny finishes in a hurry.

She groans inwardly. It might not be polite to comment on someone’s sexuality, but it definitely isn’t a brilliant idea to bring up an ex that went off to America after the war, even if it was years ago. Tonks was pretty upset by the whole thing, Bill said. It’s probably the last thing she wants to be reminded about. Ginny’s usually great at chatting to people and has all sorts of good stories and funny jokes. There’s just something about the way Tonks is looking at her—eyebrow raised and lips twitching into a smile—that makes her strangely unsettled.

“Bisexual.” Tonks gives Ginny a small grin. “Tends to confuse people, that. Can’t think why. I’ve met first year Arithmancy problems that were more complicated.”

“It’s not confusing.” Ginny shakes her head, tugging at the hem of her jumper. She can’t help but wish she’d put on something a bit nicer. Tonks always looks so cool. She wore a black satin Muggle dinner jacket to Harry’s party. It was even fancier than Malfoy’s robes. “I wasn’t expecting to see anyone today. My brain’s still catching up.”

“Doesn’t matter.” Tonks laughs and gestures towards the street, busy with Muggles going about their business. “I’ll let you get off. Hopefully it won’t be so long before we bump into one another again.”

“No.” Ginny takes in Tonks’ Muggle outfit and despite the fact she left the flat desperate to get home again as quickly as possible, she finds herself reluctant to leave Tonks. “Why aren’t you at work?”

“Day off. Like you.” Tonks nods towards a narrow door next to the supermarket, with graffiti splashed across a board above it. “I thought I’d get another tattoo. Metamorphmagi tend not to bother—we can just make it look like we have them ourselves—but it’s nice to have something permanent. Difficult, when you’re a shape shifter. I like the sting of them. They make my skin feel like mine, not just another outfit I can shrug off at the end of the day.”

Ginny takes in the easy way Tonks talks so openly about things most people keep buried. Another flush of heat travels through her body. Tonks is so confident and completely unafraid.

“I’ve never had a tattoo.” Ginny looks curiously at the small shop, half tempted to follow Tonks inside. There's a first time for everything, and she's always up for trying new things. With a sigh, she casts a reluctant glance down the street. “I'd come with you, but Howl’s expecting me back. He’s awfully clingy for a Kneazle when he knows I’m going to be at home all day. He has a sixth sense about it.”

“Magical creatures are like that.” Tonks gives Ginny a questioning look. “Howl?”

“It’s from a book.” Ginny’s heart kicks wildly in her chest and she clutches her shopping bag a little tighter. “You can come over if you like,” she blurts out. Heat rises in her cheeks and she tries to keep her voice steady. “I was going to watch a film. My flat’s in a Muggle area so the telly works.”

“Really?” Tonks looks momentarily surprised, then her face relaxes into an easy smile. “I’m sure the tattoo can wait. I didn’t know what I wanted anyway, it was just something to get me out of the house. I’d have ended up with a Niffler on my bum or something stupid if I hadn't bumped into you.”

“I’d have liked to have seen that.” Ginny laughs, a light, easy sensation settling over her. “I should warn you about Howl though. He doesn’t like people much.”

“You’ll have to teach me how to win him over, then.” Tonks falls into step beside Ginny. “You’re sure I’m not spoiling your plans?”

“No. I didn't really have any.” It’s true. As much as Ginny wanted to have the day to herself, she wants to keep chatting to Tonks more. They fall into step beside one another to complete the short walk back to Ginny’s flat. “I’m sorry about your ex taking your t-shirt, and I shouldn’t have mentioned Professor Lupin.”

“Remus?” Tonks laughs under her breath. “Mention him all you like. We’re okay. Friends even, if you’d believe it. I went to visit him in San Francisco last year. I’m going back next summer. San Francisco’s wicked.”

“I’ve only been to America once,” Ginny replies. “There was a Quidditch match over the salt flats in Utah.”

“Sounds brilliant.” Tonks’ eyes flash with excitement. “It must be amazing flying every day. Your job’s so much better than mine.”

“I love it.” Ginny gives Tonks a questioning look. “Don’t you like being an Auror?”

“It’s fine.” Tonks shrugs. “Better when there’s something exciting going on. The Ministry lot are stuffy as anything. It’s miles better than it was, but some of the old crowd still like to lord it over the rest of us, wandering around in their velvet robes looking snooty.”

“I’ve seen them before.” Ginny grins, thinking of the times she’s visited Harry at work. She was so happy to leave she got straight on her broom and flew out to the coast to shake the fustiness of the Ministry off her skin.

“Of course you have.” Tonks clears her throat. “How are things with Harry?”

“Fine.” Ginny shrugs, the question no longer twisting in her gut as it might have done a few years earlier. “Things never quite clicked in the end. I like being his friend more than I liked the rest of it.”

“It goes like that, sometimes. Think you’ll be together forever, then—” Tonks takes a breath, a cloud passing over her features.

“I’m sorry,” Ginny replies quietly. “It must have been difficult.”

“Just life, isn’t it?” Tonks sighs, her unhappy expression clearing. “I stopped moping over Remus long ago. Things look different when you’re younger. Bigger. Like the whole world might collapse inwards just because a wizard doesn’t love you back.”

“I know I needed time to find out who I could be on my own, once the shadows of the war lifted.” Ginny glances at Tonks. “Harry too, I think.”

“I’ll bet.” Tonks gives Ginny’s shoulder a quick squeeze before releasing it, the friendly touch eliciting an unexpected thrill. “Have you worked it out yet?”

Ginny’s throat grows dry and she shrugs again. She stops at her door and digs out her keys as her heart hammers in her chest. The innocent question makes her hot and slightly panicky, for reasons she doesn't want to dwell on.

“Maybe. Getting there.” Ginny pushes open the door. An imperious looking Howl greets them, stalking straight past Ginny and curling himself around Tonks’ legs. He's clearly trying to decide if they can be friends or if he needs to go and sulk in his favourite spot on the window seat. “Tea?”

“I'd never say no to a cuppa.”

Ginny makes her way quickly into the kitchen as Tonks fusses over Howl. He purrs in a way he rarely does with strangers, nuzzling into her palm as she talks to him quietly. 

“He likes you,” Ginny says. The advantage of an open plan kitchen is you don’t have to disappear off to make tea. “He doesn’t usually get on with new people. He scratched Harry at my house-warming party, but I think that’s because he was standing next to Malfoy.”

“I’m honoured in that case.” Tonks grins and stands with a stretch. “Want a hand with anything?”

“No.” Ginny fumbles with the kettle and heat rises in her cheeks again. She’s suddenly all fingers and thumbs and she’s sure it doesn’t go unnoticed. She really needs to stop having the kind of feelings for Aurors that make her stomach flip. They’re all far too astute. “Sugar?”

“Just the one thanks.” Tonks selects a book about women in Quidditch from Ginny’s shelf and flicks through it. “My ex didn’t even like flying, can you believe it?”

“How can someone not like flying?”

“No idea.” Tonks seems quite cheerful talking about her ex and certainly doesn’t sound as if she’s nursing a broken heart. “Next time I’m going to go out with a Quidditch player.”

Ginny drops the sugar and it spills over the floor. Tonks joins her and helps tidy up as Ginny curses her own clumsiness, pointedly not meeting Tonks’ gaze.

When she finally plucks up the courage to look up, Ginny finds Tonks watching her with a curious smile.

The space between them seems smaller than ever and the air hums and cracks like the sky during a thunderstorm.

*

They don’t really watch the film in the end. It’s slow and atmospheric, with lots of sheep and views of Yorkshire’s rolling hills. It’s all a bit too arty for Ginny’s tastes. She finds Tonks far more interesting than the gentle pace of the story, and they drink endless cups of tea, chatting into the early evening as they tuck into the pizza, crisps and hummus Ginny purchased earlier.

They have so much in common. Ginny always thought Tonks was fun and cool, but she’s never really got to know her properly, which is odd, considering how close Tonks is to Bill and Charlie, not to mention how regularly she works with Harry, Ron and Hermione. The realisation that Ginny and Tonks see the world in similar ways is a welcome surprise. Tonks is the sort to chase storms too, from what Ginny can gather. She’s the Hufflepuff kind of brave that isn’t flashy or boastful. It just is. The sort of courage that burns bright enough beneath the surface to make everything else shine.

“I’ve taken up your whole day.” Tonks casts a glance towards the window, watching the sun sink beneath the nearby buildings and slowly turning the sky to flames. “You probably wanted some time to yourself, I know how rare it is to get days off with nothing to do.”

“This turned out to be better,” Ginny replies. She gives Tonks a wide smile, a soft warmth curling through her body.

She’s infinitely more at ease, having pulled on her comfy house socks and settled close to Tonks on the sofa. The day has been just as relaxed as Ginny hoped and she wonders why having Tonks here is so effortless. It’s not like having company that needs entertaining with fancy food or clever conversation. She didn’t once want to stop chatting so they could watch something silly on the telly, but she’s certain that if she had suggested it, Tonks would have been quite happy. There’s something so affable about her, so likeable. Ginny could kick herself for not having paid more attention to Tonks in the past.

“Something on your mind?” Tonks gives Ginny a crooked smile, pushing a hand through her hair and leaving it spikier than before. She’s so lovely in the warm glow of the sunset, with a light flush on her cheekbones.

“No. Maybe.” Ginny wets her lips, her mouth suddenly dry. She doesn’t miss the way Tonks’ eyes flick down, as the comfortable air in the room takes on an electric quality. It reminds Ginny of learning to cast spells for the first time; how the room would flicker and shine with magic, the bricks of Hogwarts humming with it. “How do you know exactly who you are?”

“What makes you think I do?” Tonks pulls a face, her smile fading. “Some days it’s all such a muddle.” 

“You seem to know.” Ginny hopes she hasn’t offended Tonks, eager to bring her smile back again. “You’re so confident.” 

“I’m pig-headed, more like. I refuse to do what’s expected of me. Stubborn as Hippogriff shit, Robards says. He got it on his boots once, couldn’t get it off no matter how much he tried. He had to chuck them in the end, after half the DMLE started complaining in meetings.”

Ginny snorts with laughter. “He sounds like a right charmer.”

“Lucky for me I don’t have much interest in being charmed by him.” Tonks grins. “Look, I know what I like and who I like, I enjoy my job and I’m pretty good at it, too. That doesn’t mean I’ve got everything mapped out. I spent longer than I care to admit waiting for Remus to realise what he was missing out on and after that it’s been bed hopping and pretty witches that turn my head for a bit then tell me they hate flying. Then there’s the other stuff.”

“There is?” A surge of pleasure travels through Ginny at the fact Tonks seems very determined her next romantic partner should be keen on flying. That’s one area Ginny’s supremely confident in. “What other stuff?”

“Just—” Tonks stops, mulling over her words. “The Metamorphmagi thing’s confusing. For me, for other people. Some days it’s like this body I’m wearing isn’t the right one. I’ll put on suits and ties, but it goes deeper than that. It’s in here.” Tonks puts her hand over her stomach. “Deep in my gut. I can’t explain it.”

“You don’t have to.” Ginny shakes her head quickly, mulling over Tonks’ words. She isn’t sure she fully understands, but she thinks she might get some of it. She’s never liked the boxes people tried to put her in, or the way people expected her brothers to do one kind of thing and Ginny to do something different. “I’m glad I’m not the only one still working things out. My life’s been a lot like going flying with no idea where I’m going. I just let the wind take me. It’s exciting not knowing where I’ll end up.” 

“The beauty of flying just for the hell of it.” Tonks gives Ginny a soft smile. “I’d say we’d be unhappy if people like you and me tried to put everything in order, all neat and tidy. It’s complicated, this life business. An odd, lovely mess. Like those scribbles people put up as art.”

“People who buy fancy art that is.” Ginny laughs and nods at her poster of Gwenog Jones. “None of that here. Just me, Howl, Gwenog and a load of brooms and boots.”

“It looks alright to me,” Tonks says softly. The distance between them closes and like a magnet, Ginny finds herself pulled towards Tonks.

The kiss is nothing like Ginny expected. She thought it might be an odd, uncomfortable thing. A step too far; a realisation that daydreams should stay in her head. Instead, the firm pressure of Tonks’ lips against Ginny’s is a revelation. Like soaring through stormy skies, everything seems so much more _alive_ when she’s kissing Tonks. With a low groan of pleasure, Ginny moves to try to get as close as she can. The blissful, heady sensation of Tonks responding with equal fervour thrums through Ginny, and it takes a moment to realise Tonks is gently pushing her back.

“Hey.” Tonks takes a breath, her voice shakier than usual. “Um…I didn’t mean…”

“I did.” Ginny swallows, her eyes travelling to Tonks’ lips and then up again to her dark eyes. “I meant.”

“Oh.” Tonks clears her throat. “It’s okay that I’m…?”

“Mates with Bill and Charlie?” Ginny gives Tonks a slow smile, her heart still beating rapidly in her chest. “I’ll have a word, if you like. Stop them being such big brothers about it all.”

“Not that.” Tonks rolls her eyes and laughs under her breath. “You know what I mean.”

“Yeah.” Ginny knows that Tonks is asking _is it okay that I’m a woman_ and she also knows why Tonks didn’t want to finish the sentence. At least, she thinks she does. It’s all new to Ginny, but part of her is glad they’ve both got some things to work out, that they’re not perfectly pristine finished works of art. They’re scribbles, like Tonks said. Beautiful, messy scribbles. “I know what you mean.”

“And that bit’s okay?” Tonks raises an eyebrow, a flicker of amusement crossing her face. The flush in her cheeks deepens. “If it’s not I could, um. Change things.”

“Do you want to change things?” Ginny gives Tonks a careful look, not missing the way the flush in her cheeks deepens.

“Sometimes.” Tonks’ voice is gruff. “But not always. Does that seem strange?”

“No. It doesn’t matter to me,” Ginny says, honestly. She finds it’s true. Ending up here with Tonks is unexpected, but Ginny likes the unexpected. Besides, there’s already an established ease between them that comes with years of skirting around one another’s lives, like fingertips brushing together before their hands finally clasped. Ginny slides her fingers between Tonks’ and takes a moment to steady her breathing. “I like you. In a way I haven’t liked anyone for a long time. Howl likes you too, and he has very good taste.”

“Does he now?” Tonks laughs, her whole mood lifting. She’s relaxed and happy again, her lips curving into a smile as they shift closer together. “I like you too. I used to subscribe to _Seeker Weekly_ when I was a kid. Spent all my pocket money on it, never missed a single week. Quidditch players are really something.”

“I’d have put on my leathers and started doing Wronski Feints if I knew you liked Quidditch players that much. Perhaps I should do that now?” Ginny’s words wobble, but with a shaky breath she lets her usual Gryffindor courage win through. “Or we could just go to bed.”

“We could?” Tonks swallows. She squeezes Ginny’s hand before standing and tugging Ginny to her feet. Her voice dips, low and quiet. “It’s not just the Quidditch thing, you know. Not that I’d say no to seeing you in your leathers one day.”

“I know.” Ginny surges forward and kisses Tonks fiercely.

It’s as easy and thrilling as learning how to fly.

*

It starts slowly, like a gentle spin through the summer sky, with hardly a gust of wind behind them.

Kissing Tonks at first feels like those hazy days when the sun stays up for ages and vanilla ice-cream has never tasted so good. Ginny has kissed plenty of wizards in her time but there’s been no one quite like Tonks. The slow, steady pace of it, the care with which she tugs off Ginny’s jumper and nudges her onto the bed. They move easily together, as if they’re flying on a humid July evening, aiming for the sunset. Ginny’s skin is hot with wanting, whispers of encouragement falling from her lips as Tonks’ lips and fingers travel over her like sunbeams.

The kisses get harder, hotter, heavier as the room fills with breathless sighs. Ginny hasn’t ever felt quite so eager for someone to just _touch her_ , her legs parting willingly as Tonks kisses over the slope of her belly and lingers on the curve of her hip.

She slides her hand into Tonks’ hair and notices how the colours shimmer, flashes of pink breaking through the purple and blue. She wonders what those colours mean to Tonks—what it means that her hair gets so bright and vibrant when she spreads Ginny open and tastes every part of her. The slide of Tonks’ tongue and the push of her fingers makes Ginny cry out, her hand curling against the sheets. It doesn’t take long for her first orgasm to shudder through her, her hips jerking up as Tonks holds her steady. She sinks back into the pillow as Tonks persists, taking Ginny up and over the edge again, like a wave that keeps cresting against the shore.

When the dizziness dissipates and Ginny can finally catch her breath, she rolls them over. She wants to taste Tonks. She wants to explore every tattoo and talk about what each one means until the sun starts to come up again. She wants to know every inch of Tonks, to taste the perspiration against her skin and to feel the tang of her against her tongue. She listens carefully to the way Tonks gives her quiet, gentle instructions and the pleasure of being told how to taste and touch shivers down her spine. Things she’s never been interested in with other partners travel through her mind, her heart racing at the thought of exploring with Tonks. They don’t have to know themselves completely, Ginny realises. She’s always dreamed about going travelling without having any fixed idea where she might end up.

Ginny sucks in a breath at the clasp and twist of Tonks’ hand in her hair. Everything is so hot and wet, so unfamiliar and intoxicating. Despite the newness of it all, Ginny can’t help but feel there’s something so familiar about Tonks and she wonders if it’s the same for her, too. They’ve been around one another enough in the last few years that there’s so much they already know about each other, even with all the things they still have to discover. Like the easy conversation earlier, learning the things Tonks likes isn't difficult at all. Ginny smiles against Tonks' skin, sensing she's starting to come undone. With a sigh of pleasure, Ginny focuses completely on Tonks and gets to work with her mouth, her tongue and her fingers.

When Ginny is quite sure she’s left Tonks fully satisfied she slides up the bed and their lips meet in a messy kiss.

“Will you stay tonight?” Ginny whispers. There’s no one around, but it feels like a whispering sort of moment.

“I’ll even go out and get us both breakfast if you like.” Tonks brushes Ginny’s hair back from her sticky forehead. Her fingers linger on Ginny’s cheek, her smile fond. “I’ve got tomorrow off too.”

“We could go flying.” Heat rises in Ginny’s cheeks and she gives Tonks a sheepish smile. “You probably have plans.”

“I do now.” Tonks pulls Ginny into a deep kiss and they sink back onto the bed.

Ginny stretches out as Tonks makes her body clench, shudder and sing. The air of fleeting summers slips away. The second time around Ginny can almost taste the rain on her lips and feel the tilt and twist of the broom handle in her gloved hands as she imagines soaring into the clouds. Desire thrums through her, every bit as exhilarating as hurtling through the sky and encountering an unexpected storm.

Ginny closes her eyes and flies headfirst into it, bold and unafraid.


End file.
